Lady Ann's Holiday - Chapter Eleven

Fighting

1

Burt joined grandmamma on the balcony for breakfast feeling disconcerted by the events of the previous evening.

“Good morning Ann. You look a little more tired than usual. I trust you didn’t sleep badly.”

“I didn’t sleep as well as I normally do,” replied Burt, taking a seat as Gladys set out her food and took away the silver cover that was keeping it warm.

“Perhaps thinking about your decision to fire that wearisome upstairs maid…”

Burt looked at her, alarmed. “You know about that?”

“My dear, everyone in the house knew about it the moment you raised your voice.”

“I must offer my sincere apologies grandmamma,” said Burt. “That was entirely inappropriate behaviour.

“Rubbish. That girl deserved a good talking to. You did exactly the right thing.”

“Then you aren’t angry that I dismissed her without your leave?”

“Ann…” The old lady set down her newspaper. “Not only am I not angry about it, I applaud it.” She looked on Burt sternly. “When you came here a week ago I saw that you had gone completely to seed, most likely from spending too long associating with the lower orders.”

“I’m so sorry grandmamma—”

“Let me speak child!”

Burt closed her mouth and sat rigid, chastened.

“We managed to improve matters together excellently I must say… thanks mostly to my tutoring. your manners have improved drastically and you continue to bear yourself very much as a well-bred woman.”

Burt beamed with pride and happiness.

“However!” said the old lady dramatically. “You have continued to show far too much favour to the servants in my observations, and though you act and speak like a woman now, you have a way to go before you carry yourself as one of the gentry.”

Burt felt crestfallen. She had thought she was doing so well.

“Fear not though my girl,” said Grandmamma, “for that is the next thing we shall work upon. If I have anything to say about it, by the end of this week you’ll not only look and sound like a lady but you’ll act every bit the aristocratic heiress that you are!”

2

Ann sat testily, cramped into the rear of the third class carriage heading west out of Yorkshire, on her way to Blackpool. Every time the train took a bend he was pushed and jostled by the fat man sitting one side of him or the old woman on the other.

He’d decided to take the trip to cheer himself up. Despite his drunken ambivalence the night before, the more he thought about it the worse he felt about being stuck in Burt’s brain.

Living as a man for a fortnight was great. There was no doubt about that – especially since he didn’t have to do Burt’s job. What he was becoming increasingly irritated by though was having to talk like Burt all the time and being stuck with his lack of education and intelligence!

He had always been a quick-witted woman; highly intelligent and well-educated. It was a fundamental part of who she was. Now he had realised that he didn’t have any of that anymore, he wasn’t sure who he was! Was he still Lady Ann at all anymore or had he really become Burt?

Talking like an ignorant clodhopper had been hilarious when it was by choice. Now, he really couldn’t talk any other way. He’d tried again that morning at Griply station when he bought his ticket but had failed again miserably. He talked like a Yorkshireman now all the time as if he’d been born one.

He’d tried to understand the train timetable but had found it even harder to follow. In the end he’d had to ask someone in his ignorant yokel voice, feeling every bit as stupid as he knew he’d become.

He’d chosen to swap bodies with Burt – he’d had full control – and then, as the week went on, he’d chosen through the repetition of who he was now, to take on more and more of Burt’s mannerisms and nature… but now he felt trapped by his choices. He felt like he had less and less control.

Running lower on money made it all the worse. He still had a lot by any stretch of the imagination but he’d had to restrain himself from buying drinks all round. He was having to be careful. And he resented that! It was his holiday! He should be able to do anything he wanted!

He’d even considered going up to the house for more cash but fear had stopped him. Talking like he did, nobody would ever believe that he was really Lady Ann and if he was caught “taking money” – even though it was rightfully his – he might actually be sent to prison for years!

The imagined reality of that sent genuine shudders through him.

No, Ann was becoming increasingly grumpy about the whole thing. Which was why he’d decided to get away. He’d enjoyed York immensely and perhaps another trip, to an exciting seaside resort, would lift his spirits.

And today he was determined to take control of this situation. He was going to fight against this transformation! He wasn’t Burt. He was Lady Ann Neville! And he was going to act like her!

3

When Burt left the morning room she saw the upstairs maid descending the stairs dressed in a plain coat and hat, her bags in her hands. The maid glared at her forlornly as they made eye contact then she sullenly descended the rest of the way and headed toward the front door.

Burt felt awful that her career had been ruined because of her. What was going to become of the girl? Would she find another job or would she end up destitute? Or having to sell herself perhaps?

How could she have been so self-important and cruel to make such a flippant decision that would affect her whole life? Perhaps she should even call her back!

But as Betty reached the front door she turned and gave him one last sneer and instead, Burt said, “You can sneer all you want girl but that won’t pay your bills from now on.”

She pointed toward the rear of the house. “And I’ll thank you to use the servant’s exit. This staircase and that door aren’t for the likes of you. Are they?”

The girl said nothing, staring at the floor.

“Are they?”

“No m’lady.”

“Now get out of my sight,” snapped Burt and watched her disappear down toward the kitchen.

As soon as she was out of sight Burt felt terrible again. She’d really meant to be kind but Betty’s sullen aspect and just irritated her. And now she was gone.

She went to the hall mirror and looked at Ann’s lovely face in the reflection.

What she’d said to her was the kind of superior attitude that the real Lady Ann would have shown to a mere servant. And she was trying to be Lady Ann in every way.

“I am Lady Ann and I should act like her,” she said, and as soon as she did so she felt her guilt ebb a little.

“I am Lady Ann. That girl was caught tampering with my property. She deserved to be fired.”

She felt more and more relaxed – less concerned for the girl’s predicament.

“I am Lady Ann. She was only a servant. She doesn’t matter. She’ll probably find something else. And if she doesn’t then what does it matter?”

She smiled at her reflection, feeling a lot better about the whole thing.

4

Ann walked out of the theatre angrily as soon as the interval started.

He was furious: at the playwright; the actors; the director and most of all: himself!

The play had been a complete bore. The actors had used snobby pompous language constantly. He hadn’t understood half the stupid big words they used and the subject matter was terrible! It had all been about feelings and political dealings. There hadn’t been a single joke in the whole thing! Or any songs!

The whole exercise had been pointless! He didn’t know why he’d forced himself to go there.

All it had done was underline his diminished education and intelligence, making him feel inadequate! The whole time he’d sat there thinking how dull it was – how full of itself and over the top. Now he’d seen and understood the entertainment of the lower classes he really didn’t have any respect for upper class pursuits. They were all boring as shit! Why did he keep thinking they were somehow better? They weren’t!

Feeling more and more frustrated Ann marched away from the theatre district, heading toward the seedier end of town where he knew that at least there would be some good entertainment.

Eventually he found a boxing match that was just getting started. He went in there and bought himself a drink and some food then settled in.

He’d never been to a boxing match before and he quickly realised that the old her – the stuck up poncy lady her – could never have stood it. The old her had been a right pansy around violence of any kind and this was extreme violence just for the sake of it! It was bloody marvelous!

Ann loved the action and the tension. He loved the lights and the crowds and the cheap booze. He liked the totty that came out between rounds to show their legs to the men in the audience and he loved the whole atmosphere. There wasn’t a bunch of priggish toffs making out like they was superior. It was just salt of the earth honest working folk, enjoying themselves.

It was a much rawer experience. Fuck that cerebral shit! This was what life was meant to be about!

It was plain as day what was right here.

He was Burt. He had Burt’s brains. So chuffing what?

There were another six days until he went back to his old life as a stuck up bint. Until then he was stuck in this body and more importantly, stuck in this brain.

I’m Burt, he said to himself. I’m a lower class idiot clodhopper. There’s no denying it and there’s no getting away from it. I’m stupid! I’ve got nowt when it comes to schooling! But I’m not a stuck up twat neither! Why should I waste me time getting bored as shite pretending to be what I’m not?

It’s only six days and then I’ll get me old brain back. Until then there’s no point fighting it. I am Burt. I am an imbecile. I don’t like poncy plays and I do like boxing.

I’m a working man. I’m not a lady!

Some part of him felt that this was a mistake; that every time he reiterated who he was now it took greater hold of him – that the transformation still wasn’t complete – that he was becoming more and more like Burt and the more he reinforced it the more like Burt he’d become until he really was Burt one hundred percent.

But that was twat thinking.

I love being Burt! I love being a man! So I’m stupid… so what! There’s no point fighting against it! For the next six days I’m going to enjoy it!

I’m going to enjoy being a man!

5

Burt was in a whirl, looking at all the beautiful outfits of the dancers at the ball. It was a far cry from the hjinks that took place at the occasional dances she’d attended at Griply village hall. Everyone was so elegant and rich. They carried themselves with such dignity and reserve.

Obviously she was never going to be able to dance herself but it was wonderful to watch the other dancers and imagine…  

She returned from the powder room to find grandmamma speaking to two young men. The first was a younger man who seemed bored and eager to get away but the other was someone who immediately caught Burt’s eye.

“May I introduce Lord Richard Hurley,” said Grandmamma.

The man smiled, taking Burt’s hand. “As a matter of fact we’ve met already.”

“We have?

He smiled warmly. “I’m surprised you don’t remember me Ann dear. On your last visit to the capital I thought we might even become more than just acquaintances and I was up in Griply visiting your father just the other day. I asked after you but he said you were here.” 

Burt blushed, her eyes growing wider. This must have been a past suitor or Lady Ann and by the sound of it, they might even have been close. More shocking was that much to Burt's surprise she found him tremendously attractive! 

Lord Hurley was older than her by ten years but he was so handsome and distinguished! It had never occurred to her in a million years that she would find a man appealing but she did, and on different levels: not only as a potential sexual partner but also as a prospective husband and good choice of someone in her class.

These thoughts surprised her but it made sense. She’d obviously picked up more from Pride and Prejudice than she’d realised.

She noticed with quick feminine intuition that he too was still very smitten from Ann’s last visit and couldn't take his eyes off her. She smiled a secret smile.

He asked for a dance and Burt without thinking murmured acceptance. She was horrified, having no idea how to dance, but before she could decide how to act she was swept up into his strong arms and was waltzing! Burt found she did know how to waltz and damn well too! Richard’s strong hands felt so good on her waist and Burt found herself smiling up into his adoring eyes.

“You dance wonderfully,” she whispered in perfectly clipped English.

“Why thank you my dear,” replied Richard. “And you look simply divine.”

They danced for the rest of the evening and then sat quietly, discussing every subject under the sun from philosophy to the classics. Burt’s reeducation by her grandmother really had worked wonders. She was now a cultured and intelligent woman; charming and erudite; and she found herself growing more and more fond of Lord Hurley as the night grew late.

It was only a shame that she was leaving for Brighton in the morning. All she really wanted to do was spend more time with Lord Hurley. When she explained her destination to him, he too seemed gravely disappointed.

But perhaps it was for the best. She was here only as a favour for her darling Lady Ann.

For Lady Ann.

6

After the boxing match ended the men in the audience were all in a rowdy mood and Ann was too.

He got jostled by a big bloke who looked like he worked the boats.

“Ere, watch who you’re pokin!” snapped Ann.

“I'll poke who I bloody well like,” said the sailor, giving a toothy grin.

“Well I chuffing will too then!” cried Ann and punched him as hard as he could in the face.

The bloke fell backward but came back, aiming a misplaced blow at Ann’s chest. Ann dodged back and lamped the sailor hard in the side of his face, knocking him down. He tried to get up, snarling in anger but Ann gave him a nasty kick in the ribs then pushed him over with his boot.

There was a cheer from the men all around him and Ann grinned in triumph, emulating the winner in the boxing match by holding her flinched fists high. “Any more takers? I bet I can take on any one of you ponces. How’s about it?”

“Aright,” said one man, roiling up his sleeves. “There’s a shilling ere says I can knock you down!”

“Right then,” said Ann. She scanned the developing crowd. “Anyone else care to bet on the outcome?”

It gave him a thrill to see money being raised all round then he gave a yell and charged at his new opponent.

This time he knocked the man down in half the time!

Soon he was bare-chested and calling out for a third fight, placing another bet himself, this time larger.

It was one of the best nights’s he’d ever had – watching the fight and then doing it himself! And gambling was a riot! He didn’t know why he hadn’t got into that before.

Ann was so glad he’d decided to stop fighting against being Burt. The was the best chuffing holiday he’d ever had in his life!